Teach me something
by Cheerful Black Rose
Summary: France is recovering after war trying to maintain his 'superpower' status which is not easy seeing as most of Europe is conspiring against him to ensure his power remains limited. A bright young province approaches him asking him to be his Teacher. Mixes of Romance, slight FACE, 19th Century to modern day. France agrees to educate him although Romania is looking for something more
1. S'il vous plaît

France sat at his desk looking rather tired. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. There was always feeling inside of him that, despite being on the losing side, he had still accomplished something great. He had managed to do what no one else could do. He had done some good for the world, even if those closest to him could not see him.

Yet he sat at his desk wondering just how he was going to conduct a stable foreign policy with half of Europe determined to ensure he stayed as weak as possible.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone approaching him from behind. 'If this is yet another person here to attack me, then they might as get it over with' he thought dryly.

"What do you want?" Francis asked, not bothering to turn around and see who was there.

The young boy standing at the doorway behind him stared at him, with a slightly fearful look on his face. Yet he could not bring himself to speak.

"Speak to me," He commanded, "I do not have the patience for this!"

Romania had a loss for words. He wanted to say something. He really wanted to speak but he couldn't. It was almost as if he had forgotten how to speak French the moment he heard the bitterness in France's voice.

"Fra... Frate?" Costel gulped, he hadn't meant to say that. He knew he shouldn't have said that. He didn't even know why he said it. It's not like they're actually brothers after all. Sure, Rome had introduced the man to him to be his 'older brother' but he already had a brother and an older sister. Not to mention a mother, Dacia, who they all loved very much. Why would he want anyone else?

"Pardon?" France asked, somewhat surprised as he turned around to see the small Romanian standing there. France had guessed that Romania had called him 'brother' in his language since the two were very similar. It would be a wicked word to mutter, if he had. For everyone of the man's brothers had turned against him in war, Romania being no exception to this.

"Fr...Franţa," Romania said hoping to cover up his earlier mistake but still stuttering slightly, "Bonjour, Comment avez-vous été?"

France noticed the fear in the youngster's eyes and decided to change his body language to something less offensive. He was still curious to the other's presence, knowing well that the young boy was under Turkish control and could possibly be there to spy.

"I am fine, Roumanie" France replied, in French.

"Good, I'm glad" Romania said also in French. He continued the rest of their conversation in the same language, although Romania struggled slightly.

"So what brings you here?" Francis leant on his desk. His legs still ached from the years of battle, he couldn't really stand much without it showing.

"I was wondering if you could, perhaps, provide some help..."

Francis perked up at this. Did the Ottoman Empire need help? French help? It was highly unlikely but a tempting thought none the less. If he needed help then it would have the tables turn and perhaps France could expand out of his confines that the other nations were imposing on him.

"Help with what? Trade? empire?... Medicine?" he asked hoping it was the latter.

"Urm, no..." Romania suddenly felt very small

"Well spit it out, boy!" France was starting to lose patience.

"I really want to learn." Romania said quickly. When France didn't respond he decided to continue, "I want to study sciences... and maths... and maybe practice my french a little more."

"You mean, _you,_ Roumanie want to learn from myself?" Francis asked a little surprised and a little disappointed.

"Yes, I really do."

"I am not much of a teacher..." France wasn't sure about this. Romania was a nation under someone else's control. He shouldn't be seen with him, let alone teach him. It will defiantly be seen as suspicious. There's no way this would end well. "So I must decline. I am sorry. You shall have to learn from somewhere else."

"but there is nobody else!" Costel raised his voice. "I want to learn from you and you alone!"

"Why? Surely you have people closer to you who can..."

"I hate the people close to me," He cried, "I'm forced to learn Turkish and Russian and Hungarian and I'm shunned for my religion and my culture and my language and for just wanting to be myself!"

"I... I'm sorry but..."

"Yet you're so kind and understanding." tears slowly started to fall down the young boys cheeks,"Please, You must, Please, I beg you!"

"I am not the right person to help you, dear."

"Please," he said once more, "You are so intelligent and innovative and I look up to you so much!"

France walked over to the small boy and placed a hand in his hair.

"I doubt, little one, that I am someone to look up to. I am afraid many do not hold such a high veiw of me" he smiled sweetly down to face Costel who refused to look back up at him.

"but I do! I want to be just like you! One day I will be free and I'll look upon my main city and It will look just like yours..."

"ah, but you are so small, Your city will be noting more than a miniature to mine" Frances was playfully teasing the lad and playing with his hair.

"Please." Romania looked up to the taller nation. "I only want to learn, just for a few hours every fortnight, I'll pay I promise." Francis wasn't sure if it was the crying, or the flattery, or the promise of money that made himself say it, but he suspected that it may be something to do with the way Costel had grabbed his shirt as he begged, looking so innocent and adoring, something he saw in Canada back when he was still young. His little son who he missed so much, who also had messy blond hair at the time, used to do the exact same thing whenever he was upset, or really wanted something.

Perhaps if it wasn't for such a sweet memory, he wouldn't have said the words he knew he'd regret.

"To be your teacher, it would be my pleasure." France spoke softly, his hand stroking the other's hair, not paying attention to how uncomfortable it was to stand for so long.

"Thank you"

* * *

After the Napoleonic wars, in the 19th Century, France was quickly trying to gain back it's strength and power. This is set around this time but I haven't set a specific date because I'm not quite sure where this would fit... maybe 1820-ish. I'm not too sure.

Okay so disclaimer: No offense is intended to The French, The Romanians, The Russians, The Hungarians, The Turkish or the countries mentioned in this fic or to anyone ever! This is just a small, multi chapter, piece of badly written fan fiction(although I like it enough to publish it) which will have some countries being described in a positive/negative manner by other countries because that's how said country would feel about the other said country ect.

Well of course I don't want trolls, nonconstructive criticism, rudeness, ect, I wouldn't mind some critique even if it's small things like spelling/grammatical mistakes. Well whatever you write... please review! XD (I really do appreciate reviews)

Anyway! Thanks for reading thus! *hugs* This is the introduction to the story. It goes on to modern day but I wanted to write a few chapters about the 19th Century since it's a big deal in both Romania (w00t- Independence and United Principalities!) and France (Germ Theory- hell yeah! You go Pasteur and your medicine awesomeness) and the two will have lots to talk about.

So anyway! Thanks for reading! Toodles!


	2. Je ne savais pas

Pardon my French...

_This entire story is spoken, although not written, in French. ie, all the character interactions are done so in the French language, even if i am writing everything in English. So unless I state otherwise assume they're speaking French! Even England... just picture him speaking French in a really bad accent :/ (The English court for a long time spoke French as their main language and the United kingdom's motto is in French as well, it's even on the passports. So that's why he can speak french to him- He just doesn't nowadays because he's being stubborn,forgotten a lot and butchers the language :P)_

_(oh Except the part when the Romanians are talking to each other... That's in Romanian...)_

_Why did I not just write this story in French? Because it would be one Google translated mess that most readers wouldn't be able to understand..._

* * *

Francis sat in his study staring out the window. He had a few minutes of quiet contemplation before his new student arrives. It had been four months since Romania has first visited him, they had made an agreement that Romania would have one lesson every month with homework to do in between lessons. The break between now and last seeing the student had given France time to plan what to teach, what books to use as well as time to focus on pressing country issues.

The window of his study overlooked his large and beautiful back garden. The Acer outside was swaying with the strong wind.

That stupid tree. Why did it have to make such a presence in his garden?

_"Little one, what are you doing to the ground?" Francis starred down at his little son who was digging up the dirt with his hands. "You will ruin my beautiful lawn by stopping the grass from growing."_

_The small child looked up at his father with an excited gaze._

_"but Papa, I am going to grow a tree!"_

_France chuckled, choosing to humour his son._

_"Ah! Then in that case we must gather some proper soil and some tools to do the digging." He knelt down and took hold of Mathew's dirty hands, "When you dig like this, you look like a little dog!"_

It wasn't more than just a father-son activity at the time. A way to pass a sunny afternoon. He never actually expected the seeds to germinate and a plant to grow.

_"Papa, Papa, Papa!" Mathew called, tugging at his father's sleeve_

_"Can't you see I am cooking?" Francis responded, "we are back here for five minutes and already you have over excited yourself,"_

_"but Papa, the garden..."_

_"Leave the garden for tomorrow and go wash. We have been on too long a trip..."_

_"It's grown Papa! Please, I simply must show you!" he tugged more with greater excitement at his father's sleeve._

No. He couldn't think more about it. If he did, he would not be able to contain his emotions. He still cared about his son, deeply. Yet he wasn't his little boy anymore. He wasn't _a_ little boy anymore. He was all grown up now. Canada grew up under England's care, not his. There was nothing more to it.

_"Just sign the bloody form already," England growled, "It's not such a hard thing to do, honestly!"_

_"but my little ones..." France turned towards the window overlooking the garden where the children played. Mathew held Alfred's hand and led him to the now quite tall Acer tree growing in the centre. The older boy looked uninterested but the younger still had so much enthusiasm._

_"I'll take them of course." Arthur huffed, "You don't even know how to look after children."_

_"I'll still want to visit them..."_

_"Yes of course, you have done before haven't you?" Arthur was getting at the end of his tether, "So just sign already!" _

Francis could feel something wet slither down his face. It was a tear.  
It annoyed him but only enough to temporarily distract him from his thoughts. He didn't even wipe it away.

_"Why so angry England? You're getting some new territories, you should be happy" Spain commented. _

_"I'm annoyed because the ones that aren't mine are yours," Arthur snapped. Antonio just laughed. Francis ignored them._

_"Come on then, you heard the man." Spain said to France with menace, "He's agitated by standing here, why are you making this harder than it is?" Spain placed his hand on his chin and starred down at France who had just turned back from the window._

_Francis grimaced. Someone he once called his best friend, was now emitting a powerful aura of greed and hatred. He was smiling but in an eerie way._

_"Fine," France said defeated. "I'll sign, but you should know, that your power will someday end and it will bring you nothing but misfortune." He spoke in plurals, meaning that he was referring to both Spain and The United Kingdom, who laughed hardily at this. _

_"What makes you think that, frog?"_

_"I will make sure of it"_

_Antonio and Arthur both laughed at this although gave each other deadening glares after. No one in that room liked the company they were with so there was a definite air of 'let's just get this over with'._

_Francis signed the papers in silence and handed them over to the men waiting._

_As they left the room he turned back around towards the window, having on last gaze at the children before he left. He would usually say goodbye before they left, usually hug them and kiss them, tell them that he would see them soon, tell them to be good in his absence._

_Now he couldn't. He just couldn't. He couldn't hold back his emotions and he couldn't stand to let them see him cry. He sat in his study watching as Alfred gather a large pile of leaves and throw them in the air. Little Mathew ran through them as they danced in the air._

'Oh god, how sweet they were like this. How precious they had been.'

_Then England came and took them away. _

_His garden looked so empty without them._

_The maple leaves lay flat on the floor. The tree didn't sway in the wind. Nothing moved or played in his garden. There was just static._

_'Oh god," Francis thought, "How could I have let them leave without saying goodbye?"_

"Mr France?" a small voice called out to him from the doorway.

France turned his head quickly to reveal a young blond boy staring up at him. France seemed to stare right through him with glazed over eyes.

"My little one, you have..." the young boy watched confounded as France's expression turned from Surprise, to confusion, to sadness and then back to surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's my lesson." Romania said meekly,

"I meant what you are doing here without being announced first!" France retorted.

"I didn't think it was necessary..."

"Well it is!" Francis was irrigated from being caught in melancholy, "One must be introduced by servant before entering a room. I guess these are things you're going to have to learn as well."

"Sorry Sir, It won't happen again" Romania said feeling rather intimidated.

France huffed, "I assume you have read all the books I had told you to read,"

"Yes Sir, and more relating to the topic as well Sir."

"Good, Take a seat and then we shall begin then!"

Romania sat on the chain in front of the desk and mentally slapped himself. 'Damn it!' he thought, 'I can't believe I made a bad first impression'

xxx

Tudor set the table as his twin brother sat there exhausted from his trip back from Paris. He hadn't seemed as enthusiastic for learning then as he did a few days before, preparing for his first lesson. Tudor wondered if he should call Costel out on that or just let things slide for until after he ate. He decided on the latter, choosing to talk about something on his mind.

"I was thinking of having you take my last name," Tudor said as he dished out soup into two bowls. Costel didn't quite understand so he didn't say anything, just watched as Tudor dug the ladel deep inside the bowl to fish out the best meat. "You know, it would be easier when we have the union that way."

"Hmph, You make it sound like you want to marry me."

"Well in a way, I do," Moldova admitted. He had been a separate nation to his twin brother and sister shortly after their mother had died. He had been taken over and manipulated by all the bigger powers; Lithuania, Poland, Russia, Turkey, Hungary. None of those people cared about family, cared about the bond he shared with his siblings. They cared about only one thing and that was to divide and conquer. "Isn't just ridiculous how we are not together?"

The blond twin looked up at his slightly elder brother, his red eyes glowing in the dark living room. It was so strange how he would talk to him sometimes. Like they were a couple who was separated by rival families, star crossed lovers destined to be together and other weird romantic stuff like that.

"I'm just not sure," Costel said slowly, "You seem so great as a country so of course I wouldn't mind being annexed but..."

"Oh God! No, not that, how dare you say such a thing? It's a union, get it? As in the two of us. Together. As one great big mighty nation!" Tudor spoke so enthusiastically, Costel couldn't help but smile. "This is why I want you to go to France and learn from him! France, from what I've heard is an amazing man! So smart and so sophisticated and so fair. When we create our new united nation, I want to base our civil code on his! Have you read it?"

"No I haven't..." Costel didn't quite see the point in being tutored by Francis. He had already made a terrible first impressions, had to be polite and reserved in front of him, not to mention that it was relay more Tudor who was fascinated by him.

Still, he wanted to learn. That was what was really keeping him going.

"Never mind then." Tudor set the plates down and sat. They started to eat their soup when Costel suddenly jolted up right.

"Hang on a second! If we did get married, which we are so not doing by the way, why do I have to take your name?"

Tudor laughed. "Well because the union is my idea. Besides, you're such a girl with your short height and your-"

"Yea, well your last name sucks" he blustered out in reply. Darn his brother and his constant teasing. "There's no way I'm going around with a name like 'Balan'" It was bad enough being so blond and pale, if he had a last name that actually described his hair colour, he would never hear the end of it!

"Why not? It suits you so well," Tudor reached over the table to fiddle with his brothers longish messy hair. It was always fun for Moldova to play with Wallachia like this. Usually he latter would play back so it was clear that he was in some sort of mood by the way he just pulled away. "Fine! Vladimirescu it is then. As long as we have he same last name, it doesn't actually matter what it is"

"It doesn't matter because we're not getting married"

"but I already booked our honeymoon!" Moldova mewed jokingly to receive a 'I am not amused look' from his brother. "Fine, we'll discuss something else. So. How did he first lesson go?"

'oh lovely!' Costel thought, 'The one thing I was trying to avoid talking about'

"So, where exactly is this honeymoon then?" he asked defeated

.

* * *

Sorry this chapter is soooo slow! It hopefully gets better... I'm sorry if it dose not D:

I wanted a little back story of France to go with my crappy story... Hope you like ^^;


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